


Everyone Has A Reason To Cry

by CalmedByTheStorm



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Child Abuse, Deaf Clint Barton, Divorce, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalmedByTheStorm/pseuds/CalmedByTheStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s not crying over his failed relationship, he’s crying because it’s own his damn fault.</p><p>OR</p><p>Five Times Clint Cried, and Once Where Natasha Did</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Has A Reason To Cry

Clinton Barton was too small, too skinny, and in too much trouble.

His father dragged him by the ear into the kitchen of their small farm house. He kicked the door closed and pushed his youngest son into the corner. Clint Barton curled into himself and he watched his mother scurry up the stairs.

“I can’t believe you would embarrass this family like that!”

SMACK

“Distracting your mother, taking me from the work the puts food on your table.”

He pulls the belt from around his waist.

“You will NOT embarrass us again."

WHACK

He grabbed Clinton’s face in his hands. “LOOK AT ME” As he rose his eyes to look into his fathers. His eyes welled in fear, but he pushed them back.

“Don’t ruin this family’s name again.” He pushed his son’s face into the cabinets, stepped over his limp son’s body and grabbed another beer from the fridge.

He wouldn’t know that at the time, but those words would be the last one’s his son would hear.

* * *

 

“Hey, Kiddo!”

“Barney, what do you want? I’m practicing."

“Bro, you already can shoot an arrow blindfolded, what more do you need to practice?"

“Practice makes perfect, Barn. Perfect makes money, and boy do I need that."

“I’m thinking of leaving, Clint."

“Leaving this conversation? Good. I need to practice."

“Leaving the Circus, bud."

“What why? We have a home here?"

“No kid, you do. I have an opportunity to make a lot of money by leaving. Enough to pay for new hearing aides for you."

“I don’t need aides Barney! I need my brother!"

“You haven’t needed me since the day you came into this world screaming you’re tiny head off."

“Bareny, if you’re running off with the trickster and the-"

“Look. I asked for a favor. You should have enough money for the aides you need. I gotta get going, Hey! Wipe those eyes you’re the man of the Barton house now.”

* * *

 

Marriages ended all the time, he told himself. 51% Divorce rate. Why should he feel any different?

Why should he think that because he had a shitty childhood and turned his life around that he deserved better?

Why should he be special?

Why should he have joy in his life?

He flicked on the lights in his now empty apartment, Bobbi, taking almost everything with her to D.C. He saw the moon flicker on something on the table. Her rings looped around her keys.

Fucking hell.

He’s not crying over his failed relationship, he’s crying because it’s own his damn fault.

* * *

 

“Clint."

“What?"

“Are you crying?"

“Nah, the seasons are changing and I have hay fever."

“Clint.”

“Yah"

“You’re really crying aren’t you?"

“I don’t know how to cry."

“Bullshit."

“Excuse you?"

“It’s a children’s movie, Clint!”

“I’m not crying… Get your hands off me!"

“Look tears!"

“Tash…Tasha…Natasha."

“What?"

"Stop laughing”

“It’s a freaking children’s movie, Clinton.”

“He finds his family, Tasha. It’s sweet”

“I can’t believe you."

“It’s a sweet, loving, happy movie. They’re tears of freaking joy, Nat.”

“Meet the Robinson’s? Really, Clint. I can not wait to tell Fury.”

“Don’t tell Fury. Come on! I was trying to send you a message. It was going to be all cute. And then I had to fucking cry.”

“You tried to tell me something through a children’s movie, instead of using any of the twelve languages you speak?"

"Technically I speak twelve fluently, I'm still working on Hungarian, freaking language, and I can speak seven more conversationally, and I can read four more."

"Clinton, you are further proving my point."

"But did you get my message?"

"What was that message, Clint?"

“You can find you’re own family too, Tash.”

“That was actually really sweet."

“See! Purpose, meaning, life, all of that! "

“You are not a real person."

“Princess, I’m as real as it gets."

“Crying at a Disney movie, really?"

"You won’t tell Fury will you?"

“Oh of course I will."

* * *

 

He would always joke with Coulson. Whether it was mid-mission, over drinks, or before flinging himself over the side of a building.

Again.

His favorite was always telling Phil to never cry at his funeral. He was the reckless one. He was always disobeying orders left, right, and center, He should be the one in the casket. Not Phil. He held all his tears out of respect for the man who changed his life at least until he got home.

Natasha and him crashed into each other, not out of passion, but out of grief. The past two weeks of their life were the strangest either had ever faced, and they survived Budapest. She was his rock. She held him while he cried. She was strong so he could be weak.

* * *

 

“Say that again."

“What?"

“Those three words"

“What? That I love you?"

“We… we don’t say those words."

“Figured S.H.I.E.L.D. being gone, good time to be emotional."

“Love is for-"

“Children. I know. And as someone who never really had a childhood, falling in love with someone who never had one either feels right."

“Clint-"

“Look, Tasha. I know emotions are hard, and difficult, and they suck. But you make me happy, and I’m sick of pretending like you don’t.”

“You make-"

“We’re practically together anyways, I spend more nights at your place than mine, you learned sign language when my hearing went out again, Christ, I even smile in debriefings when you chew on your pen cap."

“How can you love me? With everything I've-"

“Tash, since that rooftop in Prague, I knew you were someone I wanted in my life. You’re strong, you’re brave, you could kill me with that paperclip, but you chose not to, you still choose not too. I love you because you have a heart, you’re just not quite sure how to use it. When you make tea in the morning, you brew me coffee as well. You don’t pull your punches with me, and you don’t expect me to as well. I don’t have to worry about you in the field, and you only roll your eyes at me once when I do. You put up with me when I’m a shitty person, and you think that you can’t be loved. You think you can’t love, that you don’t know how. I’m ok with that. You don’t have to love me, but I’m sick of pretending that I don’t love you."

"Clint... I"

"Tash, come on.. don’t cry. Come here…"

“I’m not crying, I have an eyelash stuck."

“Yeah, ok. I love you."

“I think I might too."

**Author's Note:**

> Clint Barton has become a character that will not get out of my head. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
